Tales of a Foreign Service Family

walks to the beach

In the spirit of focusing on things that are good, I’d like to take a moment to reflect on our great luck to live just exactly where we do, a short one minute walk to the beach. We have an unobstructed view of the ocean from Flynn’s bedroom window. While we change his diaper he points out the boats and birds. Flynn’s nanny Marie takes him to the beach every day to dig in the sand and then chase the other neighborhood kids who are there with their nannies. Sometimes on the weekends he’ll grab his bucket and pail and stand waiting at the gate until we open it, and then he’ll lead us down the road to the beach himself. It’s a straight shot. He knows the way.

On Saturday we were feeling a little too tired to really do much of anything, but while Andy took a nap, Flynn, Abbey and I headed down to the beach to watch a storm roll in. Flynn tried to bury Abbey in sand and Abbey tried to escape. We dug holes and put sand in buckets and pointed at the crashing waves and faraway boats as the trickle of rain grew and grew and grew. We saw giant horses and tiny crabs. We waved bye bye to airplanes flying overhead and people walking past. And then, soaking wet, we finally picked up our bucket and shovel and walked the minute back home.

I don’t imagine there are many places we could be living in the U.S. with somewhere so interesting just a minute’s walk away.